Making Amends
by Frozen-Hearted
Summary: Chapter 18 up! Finally! Bad news is in the forcast for the unusuall duo, now.
1. The welcome back

a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews. this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 1:THE WELCOME BACK  
  
Harry got off the train with a heavy feeling of impending doom. He would have to go to the Dursleys again this summer, or as he thought of it, the slave labor camp. Pushing the bad thoughts aside, he hugged Mrs. Weasley, and said good bye to Ron, Hermione, and everybody else, taking as long as he could without making it look like he was procrastinating.  
  
He rushed over to Vernon as soon as he had turned a blotchy purple color, knowing if he didn't, he would be severely punished. Glancing over his shoulder as they drove off, he noted the suprised look on his friends faces when they had seen Uncle Vernon.  
  
"Who was that woman?" Vernon paused than continued, "She had red hair. Was she from that awful world of yours?"  
  
Harry sat pondering on how to answer the question with the least reprimand. The woman was Mrs. Weasley, but Vernon wouldn't want to know that. He glanced at his beefy uncle's narrowed eyes and white knuckled hands on the steering wheel. He knew he had better answer quickly and carefully.  
  
"She is . . . like me. Like the . . . incident last summer and what it is concerning. She is related to that incident, too." Harry prayed that that would be enough to calm the edgy man.  
  
Harry thought about the referred to incident. He laughed silently to himself. The Weasleys had come to Privet Drive in Surrey, to take him to the quidditch match of the year. The twins, Fred and George, had let Dudley, Harry's fat and rude cousin, eat what is now known as ton-tongue toffee, and had watched Dudley's tongue grow to 4 foot in length before Mr. Weasley managed to shrink it. Harry laughed silently. Nobody said anything more the rest of the ride home, but Harry knew that he was not out to the storm yet. He had no clue of how right he was.  
  
When they got home, Harry quickly pulled his trunk and snowy owl out of the car. Uncle Vernon quickly took the load from Harry. In the house, Harry was sent to his old prison, the cupboard under the stairs.  
  
His school books were shredded, then burned, his cloaks and other clothes were reduced to rags, and everything else he owned was under their control, except his wand and Hedwig. And at the moment neither of them were of any use because Hedwig was locked in the cupboard with him and as an underage wizard, he couldn't do any magic without the threat of being expelled.  
  
Harry looked at his owl, and realized that if he could get her out, she could be his savior, and bring somebody to help him. He hadn't said anything, yet the owl, sensing his plight, hooted softly in agreement. 


	2. Interesting findings

Chapter 2: Interesting findings  
  
Harry then heard something that made his blood run cold. His  
Aunt Petunia asking what to do with Harry's potion ingredients, and  
his uncle had said to burn them. Amusing as it was to picture his  
aunt green with tentacles sprouting out of her head, he knew that he  
would get punished beyond his worst nightmares. But he didn't dare  
say anything because they would think that he was trying to stop them  
from burning his things, and he would get punished anyway.  
  
When he heard the scream emanating from the backyard where  
his stuff was being destroyed, he laughed then became very worried.   
His aunt had had something done to her, or had seen something that  
she didn't like, and that meant a punishment.  
  
"Honey, what happened?" Vernon asked, clearly hoping for  
some reason, however absurd, to beat Harry.  
  
"I saw . . . it was a head. Someone's head was in the fire! It  
said something about having made a wrong stop and disappeared  
with a pop. I hope the neighbors haven't seen." She let out a small  
sigh and Harry heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. Aunt  
Petunia had fainted.  
  
Vernon bent down and picked up his limp wife, clearly thinking it  
had something to do with what had happened, and told Harry if his  
aunt wasn't O.K. when she woke up, he wouldn't be either. Then  
Harry realized what it meant. His aunt had hooked a muggle house  
up to the floo powder network! He might be able to escape, if he was  
let out.  
  
"Boy, get out here." Vernon said in a very estatic tone.  
  
Harry merely replied, "Your right. I should. But you know what?   
You locked me in here. So guess what? I can't get out, otherwise I'd  
be long gone by now."  
  
A moment later his cupboard door opened, and Harry was  
dragged roughly out. Hedwig flew out moments later and landed on  
his shoulder.  
  
"Read this, boy." Uncle Vernon seemed to take no notice of the  
comments made a few seconds earlier. In fact he was smiling. Harry  
was feeling more than slightly nervous now. Nothing that Vernon  
liked was good for Harry. Vernon gave him the parchment roll. It  
must have been delivered earlier by owl. Fortunately, it hadn't been  
opened. He opened it with extreme apprehension.  
  
  
Dear Mr. Potter,  
  
Under the Decree of Use of Magic for Underage Wizards,  
quoted in paragraph 312, clause 2, paragraph a, section a, you are  
not allowed to make potions or open any floo powder network to a  
muggle household, and you will be immediately removed from the  
aforementioned network. Your breaking of the rules will result in a 20  
galleon fine, and a loss of school privileges. Your Headmaster will  
also be notified about the incident.  
  
Have a Great Summer,  
Frederick Digglus  
Misuse of Magic and Underage Wizardry Office  
  
  
Harry almost fainted with relief. He wasn't going to be expelled,  
and it was only a fine of 20 galleons. Seeing that the boy wasn't too  
upset, Uncle Vernon handed him a regular sheet of paper with sloppy  
handwriting. It was a list of chores two sheets of paper long.  
  
Vernon smiled nastily. "I want these done by 5pm tomorrow  
night, starting at 4 am tomorrow morning. Don't wake us up." He  
then shoved Harry roughly into the cupboard, scaring Hedwig. She  
took off quickly, sinking her talons deep into Harry's shoulder,  
shredding his shirt, and taking a bit of it with her. Vernon didn't  
notice, but Harry did. 


	3. Learning

a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 3: Learning  
  
Vernon locked Harry in the cupboard, poured himself a large  
brandy, and got very drunk. Harry heard him complain about the firm  
he worked at having financial problems, Harry, his wife seeing heads  
in fires, Harry, and life in general. Oh god, here it comes, Harry  
thought, as Vernon's steps came closer. It was time for him to 'learn'  
again.  
  
He was right. It came in a fury of punches which only ended  
when he fell down the stairs to the basement. Then Vernon kicked  
him in the stomach, while he was stunned from falling. And if things  
couldn't get any worse, Vernon told him that he got no food tomorrow  
because he made aunt Petunia faint.  
  
Then, Harry was put in his cupboard and left to take inventory of  
his wounds. He had a black eye, a broken nose, a dislocated  
shoulder, a broken arm and leg, either very bruised or broken ribs,  
and a migraine from the blows to his temple. He sat quietly, hoping  
his pain would go away, but it didn't. It only increased. Slowly he lost  
consciousness and was welcomed into blissful blackness.  
  
When he was unconscious he had a terrible dream. Cedric was  
accusing him of murdering him, his parents of murdering them, his  
friends for being mean enough to murder Cedric and his parents, and  
Dumbledore for betraying his trust. Finally all of them turned on him,  
and went in to attack.  
  
He woke up screaming and sweating with a horrendous  
stomach ache. He knew that the aforementioned wasn't the worst of  
his problems at the moment, because he had woke up the precious  
Dursley family, and his uncle was sure to make him pay. He trembled  
at the thought as he heard his uncle thunder down the stairs.  
  
After apologizing profusely and begging for his life, he managed  
to come away with only a minor beating, meaning nothing more  
broken, but a lot more bruises. And with the threat of another beating  
if he woke them up again, Harry stayed awake for the whole rest of  
the night, (about 4 hours).  
  
When morning came, he was exhausted, mentally as well as  
physically. The lack of sleep and fight for life during the night had  
taken its toll. But he had to do his chores, so he fumbled around a bit  
looking for his glasses when he heard a crunch. He thought nothing  
of it until he looked at what he had stepped on - his glasses! He  
sighed. How was he going to be able to do his chores without his  
glasses? He hastily shoved the remains into his pocket.  
  
While pondering this new problem, Dudly waddled in, looking  
for breakfast.  
  
"What's the matter freak? Break your glasses? Oh, poor  
Potter. Won't be able to do his chores, will he? And if you tell my  
mom about this, I'll join my daddy in beating you." Then he waddled  
away with 3 candy bars in tow. Harry would have given about  
anything to punch Dudly, given he wasn't so tired, but he was to tired  
to care.  
  
Then Harry picked up the list of chores his uncle gave him  
yesterday. It was totally indecipherable, so he set to work on  
everything, starting with the basement inside, to the windows on the  
attic outside, on a rickety ladder, then to the weeding, mowing, and all  
of the other outdoor chores. He was just about to call it quits at 5,  
when his uncle wanted everything done by, when he realized that he  
had forgotten to dust.  
  
He hurriedly finished fertilizing and went inside to dust, but was  
prevented from doing so, by one very, very, angry aunt Petunia.  
  
"Boy, you can't even read, can you? The list of chores said  
absolutely nothing about mowing or weeding. Not only that, but the  
dark load of laundry is now white because you put bleach in the  
washing machine instead of laundry detergent. Just wait until I tell  
your uncle.   
  
And no more night time raids. Don't think that just because it is  
night, I can't count. I know that 3 of Dudly's treats for behaving well  
on his diet are missing, and I know that you did it!" She concluded.  
  
Harry didn't even bother responding. He knew that anything he  
could possibly say would make her even madder. So he left her  
standing in the entrance hall, and tried to finish dusting, but without  
his glasses, missed the majority of it.  
  
He finished, hoping it would be good enough for Vernon, but  
also knowing that it wouldn't be. Harry quickly went upstairs to relieve  
himself, and rushed back down to his cupboard, but was yanked back  
out by the scruff of his neck. Vernon was home and was not happy  
with how the house was looking, so he wasn't happy with Harry.  
  
Harry knew what was about to happen, so instead of fighting it,  
he let himself get beaten into unconsciousness. He awoke back in  
his cupboard quite sometime later. He was covered in vomit and  
blood. He had also got his already broken arm broken again, and he  
noted that his ribs were defininently broken, and his stomach severely  
kicked again, then let sleep take him. 


	4. The Deposit

a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 4: The Deposit  
  
The next three days went rather the same until nightfall of third  
day, when he was beaten so badly, that he could hardly move. Any  
movement was agonizing. Not only that, he was starving, not having  
any food for the last four days. After a few hours in his cupboard, hurt  
and starving, he passed out.  
  
When morning came, he didn't get up. He couldn't get up. His  
leg was almost twice the size it should have been and his torso hurt  
so bad that it hurt to breathe, which he was having trouble with. His  
uncle however, didn't believe him, even though he was breathing in  
short ragged gasps. So, Vernon lifted him up to a standing position,  
as if to say your working want to or not, but it didn't go over to well  
with Harry.  
  
His head spun wildly, as if he was on the tilt-a-whirl, and he  
blanched. He almost puked, but didn't due to the fact that he hadn't  
had any food yesterday, or the day before that for 3 days, and  
anything else he had, had in fact come out during the last night's  
beating. Uncle Vernon let Harry go, and Harry promptly collapsed to  
the floor. His uncle, clearly not caring if Harry was OK or not, left him  
on the floor, after kicking him again for good measure.  
  
Sometime much later, Vernon grabbed Harry and drug Harry  
towards the front door. "Come on, boy. We're going on a little ride."   
He laughed mirthlessly, as Harry simply stared off into blankness.   
Vernon picked the boy up at the front door like a sack of potatoes and  
carried him into his car. There he treated him no better, by tossing  
him into the back seat of the leather filled car.  
  
Harry vaguely felt the car tilt to the driver side as his uncle got in  
and started the car. Pulling out of the driveway, Harry fell off the seat  
and completely zoned out. Somewhere, deep in the pit of his  
stomach he prayed for help from someone, as he knew that they were  
not going on a Sunday joyride.  
  
A few hours later, Vernon stopped the car, got out looked  
around, and apparently deciding that things were OK, pulled Harry out  
of the car by his ankle, as that was the highest thing on him. Holding  
him up like some prize fish, he socked him in the temple and tossed  
him out on the side of the road.  
  
"Finally rid of you after all these years. If those freaks show up,  
you ran away. I don't have any idea what happened to you." He  
laughed in a way that would have made anybody question his sanity.   
Giving Harry a final kick, he stormed off, leaving the boy for dead. 


	5. Arriving

a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 5: Arriving  
  
Professor Serveus Snape was hard at work doing absolutely  
nothing. It was finally quiet, with no students and no bloody  
interruptions. He sighed to himself, content, to be doing absolutely  
nothing but reading (More Potions, Spells, and Poisons by Caladran  
Stiffil). Glancing up at the clock, he noticed that a window was open  
next to it.  
  
Getting up to close it, he noticed something flying determinedly  
at it. He laughed, because anybody who was crazy enough to owl  
him, would have a cursed howler sent to them. The last owl he  
received was around 18 years ago, when he left Hogwarts. It was  
parents and they said that he was not their responsibility any more, so  
don't come home. Since then, he had taken a rather nasty disliking to  
the post. And yet, he watched the snowy owl approach with some  
vague interest.  
  
It swooped in the window and promptly started to screech and  
hoot while circling Snape. It dropped a small piece of something on  
his chair, and landed on it. Snape picked it up and noticed it wasn't a  
message, but a piece of cloth with some brown staining on it.  
  
"Stupid owl, why bother me with this piece of crap? Surely you  
could have thrown it into the garbage without me." He went to throw  
the piece of cloth in the fire place, when the owl let out an  
ear-piercing screech. Snape inwardly sighed. He had no clue as to  
what was going on or whose owl it was.  
  
"Fine, then bird. The headmaster should know who you belong  
to and what this pertains. Come on." The owl flapped twice and  
landed on his shoulder. On his way out the dungeon door, he  
realized that Potter was the only one with a snowy owl. He stopped  
and looked at the bird.  
  
"Are you Potter's bird?" The owl hooted and nipped his ear, in  
an affectionate sort of way.  
  
"Is he in trouble?" He asked again, and again, the bird nipped  
his ear. Then, more to himself than to the bird, "What did he do this  
time?" The bird swooped off his shoulder and took the piece of cloth  
in her beak, then landed on the floor, where she rolled over on her  
back eyes closed, stock still.  
  
"Fine. He's badly hurt, but where is he? Take me to him." He  
placed a location charm on her and set her on her way to Harry.   
Turning around, he waved his wand and summoned his traviling  
cloak, left a message for Albus, who was supposed to be visiting  
later, and grabbed a numbing potion.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Two hours later, Hedwig landed on the mailbox of number four,  
Privet Drive, and waited for the human to follow her. Even though  
she knew that this is where he should be, she felt as though he wasn't  
there. Swiveling her head, she started to preen a feather on her  
back, but found the human had come, so she hooted and flew to the  
door and waited.  
  
The human dashed towards the door, sending her flying. She lit  
in the tree, and decided to watch everything going on inside. The  
human she brought with calmly approached the door, knocked and  
met the large, dominant, male of the house. He ushered the man she  
had brought with her in. Shortly there was a loud bang, and she flew  
away, scared.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Serveus Snape apparated to where the bird had stopped and  
found himself at number four, Privet Drive. The yard was perfect in  
every way, and Snape thought to himself, if Potter had pulled a prank  
on him, he would surely kill him.  
  
He approached the door, knocked and waited. A few moments   
later, a large beefy man answered the door, and ushered him in. The  
man, it seemed was Mr. Dursley, Harry's legal guardian, and was not  
at all pleased to see Snape.  
  
"I suppose you are here for the boy aren't you." Vernon stated,  
looking rather sour. "Your too late. He's not here anymore. Took all  
his things and ran away. Can't help you, so goodbye sir." 


	6. A Second Deposite

a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 6: A Second Deposit  
  
Snape didn't move, nor did he believe one word of what the  
large man had said. He glanced around the entrance hallway, noting  
not one picture of the boy or any sign that there had been any other  
person than the pig in the wig, the large man, or the horse woman.  
  
"Surely, you know where Potter is. But maybe, if you don't, I  
could refresh your memory." Snape sneered, brandishing his wand.   
He was pleased to see the muggle pale and shake.  
  
"Perhaps, perhaps I am being a bit to harsh. Let me go get  
some tea, and we'll discuss the boy over that. Be right back." Vernon  
said, disappearing into the kitchen. Snape made himself at home,  
looking around for any sign that Potter had infact lived there. He  
didn't find so much as a photo. Wandering upstairs, he noticed all of  
the bedrooms were there, so wandering in and out of each room, he  
found a master bed room, a room filled with muggle junk, and a  
second bedroom for sleeping.   
  
Snape was confused. Surely, Potter lived here, didn't he?   
Maybe he had barged into the wrong house. He went back down to  
the kitchen and looked for Mr. Dursley. What he found was very  
weird. The cupboard under the stairs were open, and infact being  
scoured by the horse woman. She was frantically tossing items into  
the trash can, which Snape looked at. One in particular caught his  
attention. It was an old shirt that he had seen Potter wearing last  
year. It was holey and stained with something burnish colored. He  
had a sinking feeling that the burnish colored stuff was actually blood.  
  
The horse woman had yet to notice him, so he crept behind her  
and peeked into the cupboard. A back corner was covered in dried  
blood, vomit, and he ventured other bodily functions as well.  
  
"Where. Is. He?" He asked the horse woman, carefully  
anuciating every word clearly. The woman jumped, hit her head on  
the top of the cupboard, and fell to the floor, unconscious. He took  
the opportunity to look in the cupboard, unhindered. Most of what  
was in there was in the trash, but he found a small piece of old  
muggle magazine with the word 'HELP! H. P.' wrote in blood.  
  
Snape's blood boiled. He gathered up the collapsed woman,  
whispered enerviate, and made her drink a small vial of crystal clear  
potion. The interrogation was about to begin, and Snape was not in a  
charitable mood. It was clear to him that Potter had not left the house  
under his own steam, and he wanted to find the boy, give him to  
Albus, and return to his dungeons undisturbed.  
  
"Where is the boy?" He asked her.  
  
Her eyes flickered, she didn't answer for a long moment.   
"Small lonely street. Half hour north of here."  
  
"Name the street."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Can you take me there?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Did your husband take him to there?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
His eyes flickered to the cupboard, the blood and mess still  
visible.  
  
"Did you and your family abuse the boy?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Where is your husband?"  
  
"Behind you." Was the last thing he heard as a shovel landed   
an undefended blow to the side of the head, knocking Snape up off  
the ground and into the wall, where he slumped unconsious.  
  
Vernon hefted the man onto his shoulders, shuffled to his car,  
threw the man in the back seat, bound him, and drove off like the  
hounds of Hades were after him. He finally stopped on a small lonely  
street, half an hour north of number privet drive. He dumped the man  
near the boy, although neither knew it, and sped off. 


	7. Revelations

a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 7: A Revelations  
  
Later, sometime the next day, Snape awoke with a killer  
migraine. Wondering what could have caused it, he tried to get up,  
but realized he couldn't. So, he decided to asses the situation.   
Opening a bleary eye, he noticed that he was in a ditch, or something  
to that effect, was bound feet to wrists, and there was dried blood on  
the grass around him.  
  
He struggled futiley against his restraints, but managed to roll  
deeper into the small riven. He gasped as he noticed what he  
stopped against. It was a body!  
  
"Wha . . ." a sharp hiss of pain and a moan was heard.  
  
"Whose there?" Snape called out softly.  
  
"Uhnn . . . Professor? Help . . ." He whispered, nearly   
whimpering.  
  
"Potter?" He called out incredulously.  
  
"Yes?" He asked weakly, the talking sapping his precious  
strength.  
  
"Can you untie me? Then I'll help you." He said curtly. He  
heard no response, but heard the grass move slightly, shortly there  
after, a hand was loosened, but no more, and the hand of a small boy  
flumped softly onto his back.  
  
His wand arm was the freed one, luckily. He pushed off the  
ground next to him and rolled over. Potter's arm fell to the ground,  
still limp. He grabbed his wand out of his sleeve, whispered  
something, and the bonds fell away. He carefully flexed each muscle,  
the got up to look around.  
  
He gasped again, when he saw the boy who had untied him.   
He was unconscious, thin, broken in more places than Snape thought  
was possible, and mostly dead. He cast a hovering charm on the  
boy, gathered him loosely in his arms, and apparated both of them  
into the Forbidden Forest, at the edge of the anti-apparation barriers.   
He ran full out to the castle, with the doors opening magically before  
him.  
  
"ALBUS, POMFREY! MEET ME IN THE INFIRMARY FIVE  
MINUTES AGO!" Snape bellowed to the empty corridors. Not a  
minute later, he reached the infirmary, and was then met by both  
Albus and Pomfrey a split second later. Both looked extremely  
confused, worried, and agitated, as it was 1 am and both were  
sleeping before.  
  
After placing the boy on a bed, he noticed his own bleeding  
gash. The two standing before him still had not even said something  
as simple as 'what?' yet.  
  
"Pomfrey, are you going for the world's longest delayed reaction  
award or what? Help him! And Albus, where's your intuity when its  
needed?" Snape spat out scathingly. Pomfrey gasped when she  
walked over to the bed and went straight to nurse mode.  
  
"My god . . . wha-what happened to him?" She stuttered.   
"Broken ribs, arms, legs, black eye, dehydration, starvation, and  
internal and external bleeding." She set to work healing the minor  
cuts, brusies, and bleeding.  
  
"I don't know. I went to Potter's residence after his owl showed  
up carring a piece of cloth that was blood stained. He was no where  
to be found, nor was there any sign that he had ever been there. No  
pictures, bedroom, momentos . . . no anything. The house was  
perfect to the point of being wrong. His uncle said Potter was not  
there, that he hadn't been there all summer, and that he wanted to  
discuss the issue further over tea.  
  
I went upstairs, to see if Potter was ever there, he was, not  
recently, but he had. The room was filled with their son's stuff, not  
Potters. When I came back down the stairs, The aunt was busy  
cleaning the cupboard under the stairs. She was throwing away old  
clothes, tattered, torn, and blood stained. I recognized one as  
Potters. I walked silently behind her, and looked in the cupboard. It  
was filthy! Blood, vomit, other bodily functions--I made my presence  
known. The lady jumped, and cold cocked herself. I woke her up  
and, um, persuaded her to answer a few of my questions. She had  
just admitted that they abused Potter, when I very suddenly became  
unconscious. I think that I was hit in the head by a shovel.  
  
While unconscious, the uncle returned, grabbed me, put me in  
his car, and dumped me on the roadside. I awoke sometime later, a  
throbbing head, tried to get up, found I had been bound, and rolled  
farther into the ditch. I landed on a body. It hissed at the sudden  
pressure. I talked to it, finding out it was Potter. At the time, I had no  
idea of his condition, so I had him untie my wrists from my ankles so I  
could get out of there. When I was finally freed, I stood up and nearly  
fainted when I saw Potter. I levitated him, unconscious, to myself,  
apparated here, and ran." Sometime during the speech, he himself  
had collapsed to the floor, leaning against a bed post for support.   
This far, Albus had said nothing, but rubbed the younger wizard's  
back. For a long time, nobody said anything, except Potter, whose  
hisses of pain were heard across the room. Poppy broke the silence  
after a hour, exclaiming that she did her best, but the leg and arm  
would still hurt. Everything else was fine. He needed food, rest, and  
clothes, but nothing that couldn't be remedied. Most importantly,  
though, he need a place to stay. 


	8. Wandless Magic

a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 8: Wandless Magic  
  
Dumbledore spoke at this prompting. "It seems to me, due to  
the fact that he can not return home, he must stay here. I am far to  
busy, Poppy will be away for the remainder of the summer, the rest of  
the staff will be busy with assignments for me with the exception of  
you, and he would put his friends in to much danger, so Serveus, the  
boy will be taken care of by you."  
  
Poppy chuckled at the shocked look on the potions master. He  
was gaping like a fish out of water. As soon as he heard her chuckle,  
he shot a look of pure venom, that ended in a wince, as the gash in  
his head had stretched and started bleeding again. Pomfrey tutted  
his carelessness, but healed his cut.  
  
"It is now around 4, I am going to pack for my trip, I bid good  
day to all." Pomfrey stated as she left the infirmary. Dumbledore left  
right after Poppy with a skip and flourish of his cloak. Which left  
Snape to watch over Potter.  
  
At about seven in the morning, the boy woke up, feeling  
somewhat better. Opening a bleary eye, Harry realized he was no  
longer in the ditch, his entire body hurt, and that he had no idea  
where he was.  
  
"Decided to finally grace us with your mental presence, finally?"   
A cold voice sneered.  
  
Harry grimaced as he tried to turn to see who was assaulting  
already. Head spinning wildly, He eased himself into a semi sitting  
position, gently massaging his sore temple in an attempt to calm the  
out of focus world. He gazed around, not moving his head, only his  
eyes. He sighed and laid back down. If who ever was there wasn't  
going to show himself, then Harry wouldn't acknowledge his presence  
either.  
  
"Surely your not that blind, Potter." Came the calculating voice  
again.  
  
And again, Harry looked around, still laying down, but once  
again didn't see any body, and prepared go back to sleep.  
  
"Not in the mood to chat, are we?" The voice chuckled.  
  
Harry, fed up, and miserable, spat, "Either shut up, or tell me  
who you are."  
  
"Feisty, feisty. Some way to greet your savior. But then again,  
why should the boy-who-lived be anything short of stuck up." Snape  
knew that he had gone one step to far when the windows in the  
infirmary exploded. Snape sat stock still, utterly shocked.  
  
"Holy . . . what the HELL did you do Potter?" Snape inquired.   
He glanced around, eyes falling on the bed that the boy was in.   
Potter, it seemed, was scared to death. His face was white, entire  
body in an unbelievably small ball, and he was stuttering incoherently.   
He looked at his arm, cradling it against him. The glass must have  
cut it.  
  
Snape stood up and rounded on the boy, but before he could  
ask him again, the infirmary door blew open, and a rather amused  
Dumbledore strode in.  
  
"Ah. Somebody finally decided to open the infirmary windows.   
I, personally feel its about due time, as it was too stuffy in here." He  
glanced around, eyes landing on an irate Snape, frozen in mid stride,  
a shaking Potter, and the exploded glass everywhere.  
  
"Mr. Potter, am I correct to guess that this is your doing?" His  
eyes twinkled, a laugh in his voice.  
  
"S-sorry. I . . . I didn't mean to. . . please don't be angry . . . I  
p-promise to be better . . . I-I'll do anything. Just please . . ." He  
muttered, still cradling his arm and shaking. Dumbledore, clearly  
distressed, sat on the side of bed, and reached to comfort him. Harry  
however recoiled and shrunk tighter into a ball. Trying again, he was  
thrown across the room, and slammed into the wall. 


	9. A Guilty Consience

a/n1: Thanx to all who reviewed! I finaly got the guts to post this  
story, which I've been working on for around a month. Chapter 9 will  
be it for a while. I will try to update weekly.  
  
a/n2: Also, sorry about the format. Don't know how to fix it. If you can  
tell me how to, write it in a review or e-mail me. I use a notepad  
format, as it is all that I have.  
  
a/n3: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 9: A Guilty Consince  
  
Dumbledore sat on the floor a few minutes, to stop his world  
from spinning, then slowly eased to his feet. Snape was next to him  
to help steady him, holding bated breath. Miraculously, Dumbledore  
shook his head, smiled, and walked back over to Harry's bed, where  
he sat again.  
  
"Harry. Harry. It's okay. It's me. Your at Hogwarts."   
Dumbledore said again and again, with small variations, until Harry  
shook the demons of his past.  
  
Harry shook his head, eyes unfocused, and looked around  
confused. "What happened in here?" He asked completely  
innocently.  
  
Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "My dear boy, you  
happened in here. It seems you are quite apt in wandless magic.   
And I have the mark to prove it." He raised his hand to the back of  
his head and winced, pulling away two bloody fingers.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. I have no idea what you are talking about. Did I  
do something to you?" Harry asked sheepishly.  
  
"You, my boy, are the one responsible for single handedly   
ventilating the entire infirmary, with out moving. Do you remember,  
say, oh, the vanishing glass incident? Wandless magic of the same  
sort." He stated.  
  
"And your head, sir?" Harry said, acknowledging that the  
headmaster had completely avoided the question, his tone laced with  
concern.  
  
"Ah, tis not a matter of importance. I guess I had better repair  
the glass on those windows so when Pomfrey returns, so she won't  
filet us. Repairo. Good morning, Serveus, Harry." He said,  
completely avoiding the question, again. He got up, steadied himself  
on the bed post, and strode out. Snape left after him, leaving Harry to  
himself for the time being.  
  
When Snape came back, Harry was staring blankly at the wall  
in front of him. He walked past the boy and sat down in a chair near  
him. Neither said anything as both were deep in thought. It seemed  
that Harry had no idea that there was anyone in the room with him.  
  
"Potter, now that your consious, start acting like it." He snapped  
after a half an hour.  
  
His head snapped toward the sound, missing the place it came  
from by about 3 feet. "What? I'm sorry. Did you say something?"   
He inquired, with some trepidation.  
  
"I said, hello Potter. By the way, I'm about three feet from your  
left. Right now, your talking to a bed post." He sneered. Harry  
turned to look where he said he was. All he saw was a black blur. He  
decided to lay back down, wincing as the newly healed tissue  
stretched, but sat back up suddenly, as his stomache was churning  
because of a single thought.  
  
"I hurt him. I hurt him, didn't I?" He asked aloud.  
  
It was silent for a long while. Finaly Snape said, "Yes, you did.   
It couldn't have been stopped, though. I believe I've done the same  
thing on many accounts after my, erm, meetings." Harry got up  
suddenly, and stumbled toward the bathroom, narrowly missing  
another bed and the door knob. Snape followed after him, attempting  
to keep the boy from further injuring himself. He waited just outside  
the bathroom and heard the sound of wretching and a small sob.  
Harry kneeled in front of the toilet long after he had emptied his  
stomach. His head was spinning wildly, but he still tried to stand up to  
start the process of walking again. Not three steps later, he vaguely  
noted the ground rushing up to meet his face. Ah, well, he thought as  
he hit the ground, at least something's there to catch me. 


	10. The Release

a/n to the reviewers:   
  
Zardiphillian Beryllix - I'm slightly dislexic, truth be told, so  
blame my miss-spellings on that. Thanx for pointing it out to me, or I   
never would have noticed.  
  
Magus - I'll give an explination for that later - right now, he's   
supposed to be.  
  
nell-and-paru - thanks for reviewing so many times. Your the  
one who noted the formatting problem. Do you know how to fix it? I  
use a notepad text file. No way around it as far as I know because its  
the only way ff.n will let me upload. I don't have word.  
  
Legacy Lady - I'll try to remember to tell you when I update-I'll  
send an e-mail. I'll try to update on fridays. Oh, and thanks for the  
compliment! A sensational job, Honestly. ::blushes furiously:: Thank  
you a ton!  
  
PVipertooth - not really. He shakes it off and compliments him  
on it in his own odd way.  
  
To all reviewers - Thanks for the encouragement. This is  
allready more reviews then I thought I'd get, so, I'll continue, don't  
worry. I also don't mind constructive criticism, and if you have any  
ideas, I'll see if I can work them into the story.  
  
a/n2: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 10: The release  
  
Severus heard a dull thunk as something hit the floor. He  
wanted to respect the boy's privacy, but it sounded as though he had  
passed out and landed on the floor. Pushing aside the thoughts, he  
waded in, only to have his suspicions confirmed. The boy was laying  
on the floor, spread eagle, and a large knot on the side of his head  
where it had made contact with the floor.  
  
Snape carefully rolled the boy over and healed the knot on his  
head, stood up, took a step back, then whispered, "Enerviate." Potter  
pushed himself up from the floor, looking rather dazed and distant.   
He grabbed the sink like a life line and looked around. His eyes  
landed on a black blob that he strongly suspected was Snape. He  
also noted that it was moving, not that it ment much, because  
everything else was, too.   
  
Snape looked at Potter. The boy was a mess, physically and  
mentaly. Currently, he looked ashamed and sick. He also looked like  
he would colapse again at any minute. Snape walked cautiously over  
to the boy and tentively place a hand on his shoulder to help support  
him. He flinched under the touch, but soon leaned against the  
potions master for the much needed support.  
  
Snape soon steered the shaking boy back to his bed, where he  
sat down, wincing, and appologized to him for being so weak.  
  
"Don't appologize for nothing. It makes one's character seem  
weak. And you have a strong character." He admonished.   
  
Harry blushed and closed his eyes. It was the closest thing that  
he had ever gotten to a compliment from the man. "Thank you, sir,  
for the compliment." He finaly responded, and went back to sleep.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Later that day, Snape was told the following, "The boy is to go  
with you now, and you are to feed him, and take care of him. He is a  
little weak yet, let him rest as he needs it, for the first few days, and  
get him some decent clothes.  
  
Now off you go. Have fun. And if either of you are found in my  
infirmary due to something you have done to each other, I'll not mend  
your problems. You have been warned. Keep in mind that I will also  
be gone for the rest of this summer." Madam Pomfrey stated, as she  
shooed them out of the infirmary.  
  
He glanced at the boy. He still had not lost the distant, lost look  
yet. "Well come on Potter, we haven't got all day. You should be  
strong enough to walk to my quarters, where you will be staying. Do  
you have your wand? You will need it to get into my room."  
  
He shook his head, leaving his eyes less clouded but more  
skiddish looking. He glanced around, while walking, then answered a  
few minutes later.  
  
"I have my wand sir. How much farther is it?" Harry wondered,  
as they had been walking in the dungeon for far to long in his opinion.  
  
"It's right here. Are you watching? I will only show you how to  
open the statue one time, so pay attention." Snape sneered. He  
waved his wand around the statues head, then touched a hand and  
whispered the password.  
  
Harry stood in awe at the room he was about to enter. It was as  
big as the Gryffindor common room, but done in blue and green  
furnishings. There was a huge fireplace across from the door, and a  
dark green sofa in front of that, with end tables and recliners. Above  
the mantle was a picture of Isis, an Egyptian goddess. On the left  
wall, there was a door made of mahogany and a gigantic book shelf  
with tons of wizard books. On the right wall was two other doors,  
another bookshelf, and a picture of a Veela.  
  
"Don't just stand there. Come in. The door on the left is your  
room. It has an adjoining bathroom. The 2 doors on the right are  
mine. The one on the left of the book case is my room and the one  
on the right is my lab. We eat our meals in here at 7, 12, and 6. If  
you want food, come out at those times. Also, feel free to look at my  
books. You may even be able to bring up your abysmal potions  
grade." Snape sneered. It was true that he had bad potions marks,  
but only because he gave them to the Potter boy. He had a head for  
potions, and was second best in his year. His friend, Granger, was  
first.  
  
Harry stepped into the living quarters. The floor was hard oak,  
and beautifully polished. It had carpets in places, like under the  
furniture and leading to each doorway. It was dark blue with red  
designs. Not looking where he was going, he tripped over his own  
feet and slammed into the professor, then fell to the floor.  
  
"Clumsy ox. Watch where your going, and maybe you won't  
end up like you did." Snape spat acidly, but when he saw Harry scoot  
back away from him, he almost immediately regretted it. The boy, he  
realized, was thinking he was going to get beaten. Then he realized  
something else. He had no glasses on. Boy, he thought, how could  
have I not realized that. That would account for his running into me, I  
guess.  
  
"Potter, stop behaving like a three year old. I won't hit you.   
Where are your glasses? Don't you need them?" Snape inquired.  
  
"My glasses are . . . are . . . they're broken. Yes I do need them.   
But unless you can make a pair out of something else, I'll have to  
make do." Harry answered bitterly, then added, "If you can do  
glasses, can you do robes, or at least make these ragged things fit  
me? I'm rather lacking in the wizarding supplies department."  
  
"No, I can't make glasses. What do you mean by rather lacking  
in the wizarding supplies department? You don't mean that the  
muggles did something to them, do you?"  
  
"Did something indeed. They burned my trunk of supplies and  
turned my clothes to rags for dusting. I believe they may have burned  
my invisibility cloak and picture album, too." Harry answered glumly.   
A tear threatened to appear in his eye. Harry, afraid to show  
emotions, tried to hide it, but couldn't. So he decided to say he was  
tired and hobbled to bed.  
  
"Potter . . ." Snape started, but Harry, who was supposedly Iron  
Man, ran from the room, escaping the interrogation.  
  
This made Snape wonder. What have I done to upset him  
now?  
  
You haven't done anything. It was the photo album and the  
cloak, he answered himself  
  
Oh. Damn it. How can I fix that? he wondered again.  
  
You can't. Try to comfort him, and ask him if you can help, and  
if he doesn't want to talk about it, ask again later. He answered  
himself again.  
  
Oh shut up you goody goody. I won't offer help if he doesn't  
ask for it. He silently answered again, but went after the boy anyway. 


	11. The Long Night

areviews -   
  
Raven - Yeah Snape does.  
  
Zardiphillian Beryllix - I forgot Harry had no glasses!::smiles  
sheepishly:: What would I do without my reviewers to keep me  
inline?  
  
Nell-and-Paru - What do you mean? I talk to myself all the  
time! Isn't that right? Of course. Generaly because our muse  
doesn't listen.  
  
Prophetess of Hearts - First and foremost, sorry! I overlooked  
your review for the last chapter, so here is your answer - you will just  
have to wait and see. ::Swishes a long red tail and notices horns for  
the first time. Grins wickedly::  
  
a/n: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 11: The Long Night  
  
"Potter?" Snape asked when he reached the boy's room.   
"Potter?" Snape asked again, but when there was no answer, he  
walked in. He was sound asleep on top of the covers. He sat down  
on the bed, next to him, and tried to gently wake him up. "Potter, it's  
not time for bed yet. You need to have dinner first." Harry didn't  
wake up, but started to shake. Then, as if possessed, he started  
squirming and flipping back and forth across the blankets. But, as  
suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and sweat poured off of him,  
and he then screamed.  
  
"Potter, What's all this noise? Get up." Snape commanded  
harshly.  
  
Harry sat bolt upright, but moaned from the stiffness in his back  
and shoulder. His eyes were unfocused, he looked slightly  
nauseated. "Professor, did I wake you up? I'm sorry. It was a . . .  
never mind. You wouldn't care, anyway. I'm fine. You can go." He  
paused, looked even more nauseated, jumped off the bed and ran to  
the bathroom.  
  
Severus heard the boy throwing up, then washing his face off,  
and finally come out. "Potter, you most certainly are not fine. What  
happened? But, your wrong. I do care, because its my job to care."   
Snape looked at the boy. Harry blanched, then ran back into the  
bathroom again. He stayed in there longer this time, and Severus  
heard him start to sob after his third wretch. But when he came out,  
the sad, lost little boy he had heard wasn't there, but a rather hard  
looking teen.  
  
"Professor, you may care, but I'm not ready to let you. You can  
stay if you want, but you don't have to. I would prefer that you did,  
even if we don't talk." Harry finished.   
  
Severus watched as the mask of hardness fell to pieces.   
Suddenly he realized something very important. Harry wasn't used to  
having anybody care about him. "Okay Potter. I'll stay if it will make  
you feel any better. Do you mind if I get a book though?"  
  
"Why would I mind? Like I said, if you don't want to stay, don't.   
It's your dungeon." Harry told the professor a little more rudely than  
he had intended. He was confused, because he thought he had just  
heard the man sound caring.   
  
Suddenly, he realized he was still standing in the bathroom  
door, and rather shakily limped to his new bed. He started to climb  
onto it, but felt really dizzy. Pausing, he felt as though the world was  
doing its best to try to knock him down. He grabbed at anything to  
help him stand up, but didn't manage. He collapsed in a heap,  
wondering if how he could stop the ride.  
  
Unexpectedly, he felt himself being lifted up off the ground and  
being placed on his bed. "Please stop the ride," he murmured. "I  
want to get off."  
  
"Potter, I'm not leaving your bedside tonight. Your not feeling  
well, and be damned if I am going to be running back and forth  
between bedrooms all night." He sat back down on the bed and  
picked up the almost delusional boy. "I'm sorry, Harry, if my bringing  
up the book and the cloak caused this." He whispered softly, slowly  
rocking him back and forth, rather absentmindedly.  
  
"Please stop rocking the boat. I don't feel too well." Harry said  
sounding dazed.  
  
Right, Severus thought, I should have realized that rocking a  
dizzy boy would only make things worse. Glancing down, he realized  
that Harry was looking very ill yet again, and rushed him to the  
bathroom. He placed him in a kneeling position over the toilet, so he  
could do his thing. He wretched a few times, while clutching Snape's  
robes and rather choking the man, because he had the back of them  
and it was fastened around his neck.  
  
When he had finished, Severus washed his face and put him in  
his (Harry's) bed. Severus wondered where the fatherly care part of  
him had came from. It had certainly never been there before, he was  
almost certain. Making sure that Harry was laying in bed and not  
about to move, he left, got his pillow and a blanket, and bedded  
down next to Harry's bed, without any supper.  
  
Sometime during the night, Snape registered Harry's being in  
the bathroom again. He sat up, listening if Harry needed his help.   
After about a half an hour with out a sound, Snape got up and found  
Harry sleeping, half draped over the toilet seat.  
  
Carefully Snape picked up Harry and put him back in bed.   
Then he climbed back into his. Hoping to get more sleep before  
morning, he placed the pillow over his head, but to no avail. Upon  
taking the pillow off of his head, he heard whimpering from the bed  
above him. Knowing that he would get no more sleep that night, he  
quickly went to his lab and got a few energizing potions. He slammed  
one on the way back to Harry's bedroom, and felt slightly more  
awake.  
  
By this time, Harry was flopping back and forth on his bed,  
suddenly stopped, and screamed. Waking up as suddenly as if he  
had been slapped, he held his head between his hands, trying to  
make his dizziness go away. Snape placed a hand on Harry's  
shoulder. Feeling the comfort, Harry leaned toward it, shaking,  
placing his head on Snape's chest. Snape looked slightly astonished.   
Not from the boy putting his head on his chest, but from himself  
letting the boy.  
  
a/n: I will post these chapters as they come. This and a few of next  
chaptes are all ready written. I took them off of a previously wrote   
story, (not published), and are currently tweaking them to fit the   
story. Should I post them all (3 or more chapters) in one sitting,   
or put a few days time between the postings? r/r plz! 


	12. Breakfast

a/n1: I did not like the last chapter much, but, it is important to the  
plot. Yes, there is actually a plot. (I just have to figure out what it is  
now.) Ooops. . . did I actually type that? Oh well.  
  
a/n2: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews.   
this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 12: Breakfast  
  
Morning came far to soon for Snape's liking. Sun shone in  
through a window above Harry's bed, the birds chirped, and the wind  
was slightly blowing. Opening a bleary eye, he looked at his  
surroundings. He was in Harry's room, laying on Harry's bed, with  
Harry fast asleep on his chest.  
  
"Harry. Time to get up. You and I need some food. You more  
than me, though." Snape said softly.  
  
Harry yawned and stretched. "Good morning, professor. Thank  
you for staying with me last night. I was pretty out of it. Still am,  
come to think of it. What are we having for breakfast?" He mumbled  
without moving anymore than was necessary.  
  
He looked down at the boy, "You are having some plain toast  
and chicken noodle soup. I am having a ham and cheese omelet  
with hash browns and orange juice. Do you want to take a bath  
before I order? Answer now, or your not getting one. I'll help you if  
you want me to."  
  
"I would like one, but only if you help. I honestly don't think that  
I could walk that far without falling, or stay awake in the tub." Harry  
admitted. His gaze was still rather unfocused, but slightly better.  
  
Half an hour later, Harry's bath was done, and Snape ordered  
breakfast.  
  
"Harry, what happened to you last night? We were talking  
about your school supplies when you ran away. Did you get over  
stressed or something? Or did it have to do with your dreams?"   
Snape asked making small talk about a serious issue.  
  
Harry looked at him with some serious fish eye. After all, he  
was still suspicous of how the man was acting, and wanted to find out  
what the man was after. "How did you know about my dreams?"   
Harry asked sharply, practically spitting the words.  
  
"I didn't. I assumed that was what was making you wake up  
screaming in the middle of the night. Now, you have confirmed my  
guess. Back to my previous question, what was last night about?"   
Snape asked again, sounding much more like the dispicable man he  
was supposed to be.  
  
"I really don't know why I got so sick. Quite possibly because I  
hadn't had anything edible since I was at Hogwarts last. Or it could  
have been from my realizing that I had nothing of my parents left in  
my possession. Or it could have just been an acute panic attack. But  
more than likely, it was from all things combined." Harry offered, not  
really believing it himself, and definently not expecting his potions  
professor to either.  
  
"If you don't want to talk about it, then don't. I won't force feed  
you veritaserum." Snape said, dryly. Harry looked at him uncertainly,  
but dug into his soup and gobbled down his toast. Mentally scolding  
himself, Harry excused himself from the table. He limped over to the  
sofa and sat down.  
  
"Later, I'm teaching you how to fix that limp. It will be part of  
your summer courses." Snape said off handedly.  
  
"Summer classes?" He choked out, falling off the sofa.  
  
"You don't honestly think you're only going to be doing  
homework this summer, do you? If your going to be here, it's going to  
be a useful summer. I was planning on starting tommorrow." He said  
condesendingly.  
  
"Oh. I realy don't care when we start, just not right now. I'm  
kind of tired, and want to relax." Harry told Snape. Then added,  
"Would like to read, too, but no glasses." He didn't think that Snape  
had heard him mutter, but he had.  
  
"Potter, do you have the glasses remains yet?" He asked just  
realizing he could simply fix them.  
  
Harry mentally gave himself a kick in the butt. How could he  
have been so stupid? "Yes, I think so." He dug into his pocket  
finding a really bent up frame and many small pieces of glass. "You  
going to fix them?" Harry ventured.  
  
"What do you think Potter?" Snape sneered, taking the pieces  
of the glasses. He waved the wand around for a few seconds, then  
gave Potter back his glasses--fully intact.  
  
"Thank you, sir." Harry replied. "Mind if I borrow a book to  
read?" He waited a few moments, but when the professor didn't  
reply, Harry turned to face the him. "Professor, is it okay?"  
  
"Yes, fine. Do whatever." Snape replied rather distractedly.  
  
"Sir? Are you okay? Something's wrong. What is it?" Harry  
asked very concerned.   
  
"It's nothing Potter. I have to go. If you need anything, call the  
headmaster. I'll be back later." Snape replied, then strode out of the  
living quarters. 


	13. An Interesting Day

A/n: Thanks a ton for all of the reviews.  
  
Prophetess Of Hearts - Yes he will, just not right now. He has  
other engagements at the end of chapter 12.  
The book is mentioned in this chapter.  
There is no need to ask about that, considering the conditions that he   
found at the Dursleys.   
Well, you will just have to find out, won't you.  
  
A/n2: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all   
reviews. this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
  
Chapter 13: An interesting Day  
  
Severus Snape apparated as soon as he was out of Hogwarts to a   
familiar room inside of the Riddle's old mansion. It was a room full   
of dust and fear. The fear coated the room much more completely than   
the dust ever could. He looked around and found out that everyone was   
in the room next to him.  
  
Stepping out into the hallway, he heard small snippets of   
conversation. Taking a few moments before entering the room, he   
figured out who was in there. Malfoy, Voldemort, and Wormtail. He   
shuddered. That combination was never good, if he was also summoned.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into what he knew to be a   
torture chamber. It was still a drawing room, but more torture took   
place there than any other.  
  
"Ah, Snape. How nice of you to grace us with your presence.   
I'm looking forward to getting reacquainted. Come here please."   
Voldemort commanded in a deathly tone. Snape took three steps, and   
kneeled in front of his 'master'.  
  
"I am disappointed in you. I gave you orders to only appear   
with the Potter boy. I do not take disappointment well, as you know.   
I am not going to punish you though." He paused, then added, "Have fun  
with him, you two. I want him alive when I return. I have some   
business on Privet Drive to attend to." Then he disappeared.  
  
Snape looked at Malfoy, then at Wormtail. Both had a murderous   
glint in their eyes. Snape sneered in return in such a manner that   
would have made Dumbledore falter. In an instant Malfoy shot a curse   
at him, dodged one thrown at him and laughed as his curse hit Snape.  
  
The only indication that the curse hit him was a flicker of   
pain in his eyes, and that only seemed to fuel the rapidity of thrown   
hexes, curses and blockings. Within a few minutes, Malfoy was laying   
unconscious as Snape had relieved him of his wand and then used a   
simple binding spell and stupefy to complete the thing.  
  
Wormtail had yet to do anything. He was amused with watching   
as Snape quickly took down Malfoy. As soon as he had finished,   
Wormtail walked calmly behind him and cast the cast the Crustais Curse   
on him.  
  
Snape said nothing, but lowered himself onto the floor into a   
fetal position. With clenched teeth and fists, he endured with out   
screaming for nearly five minutes. His endurance was at its end, and   
then, by some miracle, Wormtail decided that it was boring and finaly   
let him up.  
  
He climbed up very slowly, every nerve tingling. When he was   
once again standing, he was very abruptly knocked back down, where he   
stayed.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Harry rose up off of the sofa and was walked slowly toward the   
magnificent book cases, although he was itching to see what type of   
books Snape kept. He was only marginally surprised when he found only   
2 Dark Arts books, slightly more impressed by the selection of history   
books, and startled when he found a book on quidditch.  
  
While trying to yank the volume out of a tightly packed shelf,   
another book caught his interest. It was a large leather bound book   
without a title. Harry pulled this one out with ease. Thumbing   
through a few pages, he found it to be a journal of sorts containing   
all sorts of potions and charms that he had never heard of. Much of   
them looked dark, but some of them were good, containing things like   
phoenix tears.  
  
He hauled the book back to the sofa, and started to read,   
when there was a knock at the door. He put the book on the table in   
front of him, got up, opened the statue, and found Dumbledore waiting   
on the other side.  
  
"Hello, sir. Professor Snape isn't here right now, but if you   
want to come in, you can." Harry said.  
  
"Why thank you, Harry." He said stepping into the room. "I   
didn't come to see Severus, though. I came to see you. Tea?"  
  
"Okay. What about?" He asked with some trepidation. He   
wondered what he could have done already, when all he'd done was end   
up here.  
  
"Boy, your really straight forward, aren't you? It's about   
your opening of the floo network to your house on Privet Drive." He   
started.  
  
A/n: I would have posted this chapter sooner, but I didn't like the   
way it fit. So, I re-did it. 


	14. Returning

A/n: To my reviewers-  
  
Erika - Thanks for reviewing nearly all of my chapters! Do you want me to include you on my update list? 'Cause it would be no problem.  
  
Savik - Yes, well . . . He doesn't know, he suspects, but he doesn't know.  
  
Prophetess Of Hearts - Yes, most definently. I was thinking along those lines. If it does happen, it won't be covered in this chapter.  
  
Wink at J00 - thanks a lot for the review!  
  
Lady FoxFire - Er yeah, about that . . . Snape will live.  
  
Severin - I especially enjoy typing the torture scenes.  
  
A/n2: Here is an admission of how completely thick I am. I have literally no clue what a beta reader is! Could someone please tell me so I'm not left in the dark. Oh, and this is mainly for Ankha, I am also Fanfictionlurker.  
  
A/n3: Just got a new computer ::grins:: and now have Microsoft word. Yay!!  
  
A/n4: I don't own j. k. Rowling. Never will. Don't sue.  
  
Chapter 14: Returning  
  
Two hours later, Snape was allowed to leave. Voldemort showed up and announced he had finished his business else where, and had decided that Snape had had enough done to him. As soon as he said that, Severus gave a quick thanks and apparated at the edge of the Hogwarts anti-apparition barrier.  
  
The force at which he landed knocked him off his feet. But at that moment, he thought without mirth, that a gentle breeze or passing butterfly could have accomplished that. He landed on his hands and knees, head spinning wildly. He halfheartedly tried to stand, but it didn't work, and only suceeded to make him nauseated. So he simply resolved to crawl back to Hogwarts.  
  
About twenty yards from the exit of the forbidden forest, his resolve wore out. Even though he could see the castles huge towers, he could no longer move. Blackness was fast taking over his vision as some unknown force gently picked him up.  
  
"Help . . ." was all he managed before he passed out completely.  
  
His mysterious savior carried him gingerly to the front steps of Hogwarts and laid him down. It had done all it could, for it couldn't enter Hogwarts school, and had been braking the laws of his kind by simply saving the man of darkness. For the sake of the one of light, he hoped that this one would survive.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"My being connected to the floo network was not my doing, sir." Harry exclaimed before Dumbledore could say anything further. Then he launched into what happened, as Dumbledore stood there flabbergasted. He had not believed that anyone could talk that fast or that much with out a breath or a pause. After a minute of explanation, he finally paused, drained his cup of tea, and started back up again.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore cut in, "I believe you. Calm down! I think you are well on your way to having verbal whiplash from talking so fast!" He chuckled slightly at his bad analogy and Harry's grinning sheepishly. "Okay, so now that that is done, There are a few things that need to be done in order to keep you safe this year. There will be no trips out of the castle without someone with you, no trips to Hogsmead, and no nighttime adventures, including quidditch practice." He winked and thanked Harry for his time, which Harry said he was happy to give and left the room. On his way out the door, a tattered piece of parchment fell out of his cloak and landed on the floor.  
  
Curious as to what it was, he hobbled over to it, picked it up and gasped! It was the marauders map. For kicks, he decided to turn it on and see if there were any shortcuts from the room he was now in to anywhere else.  
  
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He spoke at the parchment, tapping it with his wand. "Missers Wormtail, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the Marauders Map." The scrawl quickly announced and faded. Lines snaked themselves across the parchment creating the school he knew so well.  
  
He started at the entrance of the school. Severus Snape's dot was there, but not moving and slowly fading. This piqued his attention, as this was the first time that a dot had ever faded. Curiosity getting the best of him, he left the Dungeons and headed toward the entrance hall. Consulting his map, he noted that Snape was just outside of the doors and he carefully opened them.  
  
When the door was open just enough for him to squeeze through, he did so, and gasped for a second time in a matter of minutes. His potions professor was laying in a bloody heap at the doors, looking rather paler than normal.  
  
Forcing his stomach to stay where it was supposed to be, he whispered moblicorpus and took off at a run towards the hospital wing, when he realized that Pomfrey wasn't there. He turned around, and whipped through the corridors until he met the statue guarding the entrance to his rooms. He quickly opened the statue and shoved the professor in before him wondering what to do now, when Dobby showed up sporting lunch.  
  
Still supporting Snape, he called to the elf, "Dobby! Get the Headmaster. Its urgent." There was a mighty clatter as the tray he was holding was dropped as he disappeared. Harry ignored it and placed Snape on the table and lifted the charm. He had no idea what to do now, but he resolved to try his hardest. The first thing he did was get the man laying proper, meaning all bones were now pointing the way they were supposed to be, and whispered enerviate.  
  
His eyes flickered open, but looked dull. He moaned slightly and tried to move, without much success. Harry stared at him, not sure of what to do. Finally, he decided to go get a pillow and place it under his head, and to sit next to him, casting a few small healing spells here and there to do what he could.  
  
"Professor Snape, can you hear me?" He asked concerned, looking at his face for some sort of answer. Pain filled slowly rolled up to look at him. "Good. Professor Dumbledore will be here soon." He wished he could do more.  
  
Then as if on que, the statue opened and the headmaster appeared. Harry, however didn't notice as Snape had just closed his eyes again, and Harry was valiantly trying to get him to open them again. Dumbledore walked over, watching the proceedings on the way, gaining proof for his theory.  
  
"Oh, my dear god . . ." He paused and swallowed his bile threatening to escape. "Where did you find him, Harry?"  
  
Harry snapped up and shook his head. "If you want to sit here and chat, get out, but if you want to help him, start by helping me wake him up. He has concussion, a broken leg and arm, many cuts and bruises, and a broken rib, not to mention the damage done from the crustacious curse. Do something, or get out." Harry proclaimed coldly.  
  
He turned his attention away from the headmaster to the sleeping man next to him. He whispered enerviate again, watching Snape closely for his reaction. As was with the time before, he slowly opened his eyes and rolled them up ward, locking them on Harry. Harry noticed this and placed a hand on his shoulder. When he did this, he noticed a white light leaving his fingers and going into the hurt man. He watched, suddenly amused, and upon deciding it wasn't hurting him, he removed his hand from his shoulder and placed it on his chest, above his broke rib.  
  
A hiss of pain emerged from Snape, but Harry didn't move his hand. There was a loud pop, and he felt the bone return back to its original place, and still he didn't remove his hand, all of his concentration on sending the white light into the man next to him.  
  
Harry had never been so focused on anything in his entire life. At the current time, the world could have blown up around him, and he wouldn't have known, let alone cared. The only thought in his head was healing. He did notice he was getting tired, but pushed the thought aside as he could be tired later. There was another hiss of pain and another pop, as his broken arm healed, and suddenly Snape took Harry's hand off of him.  
  
The boy slumped unconscious down onto a completely healed and refreshed potions professor. Snape sat up and picked up Harry, cradling him as he would a small child. Using his own wand, Snape whispered enerviate. He opened his eyes, and fought an onslaught of exhaustion as he mumbled "your alive" and closed his eyes again, preparing to go back to sleep, when he heard "thank you" whispered from somewhere above him. 


	15. A Helping Hand

A/n: The reviewers:  
  
Saavik - maybe I should change a genera to suspense.  
  
Demon Child - Glad to hear it!  
  
Wink At J00 - thanx - I'm glad you like it  
  
Elvenprincess - soon enough?  
  
Severin - Yeah, he was a bit too much out ooc, but I guess it is a bit too much of the author coming out in it. Fanfictionlurker - I chose that name originally because I read the stories for around two years before I took an account on Fanfiction.net. I thought it was only fitting. So, it has no meaning other than the obvious. I can't be that subtle.  
  
Tiger Lily - I'm a fan! And I think that "Those Darn Dursleys" and "The Evil Prof. Snape" are really good!  
  
Tracev - I think it's a shame that you aren't continuing because it's a really good fic. But if you are like me, all the begging in the world will not sway your decision.  
  
Erika - erm, maybe . . .  
  
DarkLightAngel - Maybe, maybe not, what's good for one is not necessarily good for another . . .  
  
Prophetess Of Hearts - Your wish is my command. When it will added is still a mystery, though.  
  
Wormtail's worst enemy - me too.  
  
Dark Angemon - Thanx for the explaination.  
  
A/n2: Sorry this is late. And here's a second unrelated topic, would anyone care to beta for me? Or is it good enough?  
  
A/n3: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews. this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 15: A Helping Hand  
  
Dumbledore stood looking at the proceedings, slightly put out. Not only could he not do anything, but the words that Harry had spoken had stunned him. He had not thought that the boy could be that icy. The time with the Dursleys this summer left its mark, he thought, for he could not give any other tribute.  
  
A rather sharp hiss of pain snapped him out of his musings. He glanced at the source of the sound, Snape, but Harry was the cause of it. He contemplated removing Harry from Snape, but quickly realized that he was causing no harm, and in fact helping matters immensely. He winced at the sound of a second bone becoming whole again with another sickening pop.  
  
He looked at Harry in amazement. In all of his years as a teacher and headmaster he had not seen anyone do healing without a wand on such a grand scale. Usually, the person was not just healing, but giving part of that person's life force to the other one to help heal and strengthen. So, when Harry collapsed into an unconscious heap, he wasn't surprised.  
  
However, he was surprised to hear Snape say something polite. If his ears weren't deceiving him he thought the words "thank you" were murmured.  
  
"Great to see my life is a spectator sport." Snape said quietly to nobody in particular, as Harry was sleeping in his arms and he didn't know that the Headmaster was there.  
  
"Is it, now? Harry seems to be an active participant, or were you referring to yourself?" Albus quipped with some humor and seriousness.  
  
Snape snapped his head toward the older wizard. "I said that out loud, didn't I? Don't even bother pondering it, Albus. It was strictly rhetorical."  
  
Dumbledore only shook his head, with slight amusement. "If you say so, Severus, if you say so." He suddenly slapped his palm to his head, as he glanced at his charmed watch. "Oh dear. I'm late. I was supposed to be at the ministry already, so I must make myself scarce. Do you mind if I use your fireplace?" Snape nodded, and Professor Dumbledore took a small pinch of powder out of his pocket, strode over to the fireplace, tossed it in, muttered something, and disappeared.  
  
Snape looked at the sleeping figure in his arms, with some loathing. Now he owed his life to this Potter and the last. He simply hoped that the time should not arise when he would need to repay the debt, although, he knew, deep in the pit of his stomach, that it would indeed come.  
  
Harry shifted slightly in his arms, opening his eyes. His smile slightly faltering under the potion master's cold gaze locked on him. Harry pushed himself up from the lap he was laying on, only to fall off the edge of the table.  
  
Harry shook his head, stunned, but not hurt. He heard the sound of snickering from above him, so he looked up. Snape's head was looking over the edge of the table, the source of the sound. Harry's face contorted into a sneer to rival the potion master's, which made Severus snicker harder.  
  
"Would you like to join me down here?" Harry asked seriously. Snape shook his head, no. "Then stop laughing." Harry admonished, pride seriously hurt. Severus' head disappeared from his line of sight, and a slight sigh was heard. Feet then appeared in front of Harry and Severus Snape came with them.  
  
He bent over and held out his hand, which Harry greatfully took, and pulled him up. Harry leaned heavily on the table beside them, as he was suddenly fatigued. He muttered a thank you for picking him up, and stumbled over to the sofa, where he flopped down, asleep before his head hit the surface.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
He woke later that day, around six o'clock, and realized that he was not in the same place he went to sleep in. For one thing, it was much too soft, and for another, It was much too warm. He patted around to the right of him, hoping to find his glasses, but there was no table, so no glasses. He reluctantly opened his eyes prepared to go searching, and found out that his glasses were still on.  
  
After a few minutes, he realized that he was in his own bed, tucked in. It confused him, but he didn't dwell on it, because at that moment, a house elf popped up announcing dinner would be there soon. Harry thanked it and slowly got out of bed, still dreadfully tired.  
  
A few minutes later, Harry stumbled out into the living quarters, half asleep, and wandered toward the table. As soon as he sat down, he got back up, realizing that he hadn't been asked to join. The professor came in and sat a few seconds before the food appeared. Harry stood just to the left of the table, practically drooling, as he watched the potions master eat fried chicken, French fries, corn, and cantaloupe. As he was just finishing his second piece of chicken, he realized that Harry wasn't sitting or eating.  
  
"Come and eat, Potter. The food isn't going to devour itself, you know." Snape commanded. Harry nodded greatfully and dug in. He only ate a leg of chicken, a few french fries and a bit of corn, but it was ate with an intensity that only a hurricane could match. When he was finished, he thanked the professor, and trudged over to the sofa, where he sat down, and grabbed the book he had been reading.  
  
Opening to a random page, he attempted to find the one he had been on. But the one he had opened to had caught his interest.  
  
"Healing without a wand is a rare technique that only manifests itself in those truly pure of heart. Although it is common, the most that most people can do is heal small scratches. In rarer instances, however, the receiver of this gift/curse can heal the most sever of wounds by touch and intense concentration. It is not without its cost though. The price paid by the healer is immense. While healing the injury, the person is using his or her own life force to do so, in effect, draining them of it.  
  
If it is over exhorted, the giver may pass out or even die. Death is the main reason that there is not many major wandless injury healers. They usually give their life to save the one that they are healing."  
  
A/n: Sorry to leave everyone at such a bad spot, but it was all I could do to get this done right now, and with a bad bit of writer's block, even I'm greatful to post it. 


	16. Parselmouth

A/n: To the reviewers:  
  
DarkLightAngel - Yep. No, he can't die. Main characters never die.  
  
Tiger Lily - Yes, I do. Hey, if the men in the white coats capture you, feel free to visit me. I'm in room 101. They took me a while ago. LOL.  
  
Saavik - Good question! Umm . . . no?  
  
Demon Child - That may be covered within this chapter.  
  
Athesis and Aris Gainsborough - Thanx for reviewing! Ooops! That was kind of funny, especially because my sister was watching that movie and Ducky said the same thing at the same time!  
  
~*~ Dark Luna Angel ~*~ - Thanks for the idea to stop the writer's block! I avoided the warning, and well as they say, curiosity killed the cat.  
  
Sevrin - It was almost nonexistent. The reason worked, but it isn't the cause.  
  
Legacy Lady - Thank you so much! ::Hides behind large box as various items are thrown at her:: Sorry I forgot to e-mail you when I updated.  
  
Prophetess Of Hearts - It seems that way . . . Can Harry's pet be chameleon like? The rest works fine for me! Oh, and by the way, do you want to name it?  
  
Erika - yes, but only temporarily. Glad you noticed the life force bit!  
  
A/n2: The book in this chapter was an Idea that I found around two years ago, on another fanfiction, by either Eliza Diawana Snape, Spam Warrior, or the two of them together, or someone else completely, but anyway, the book was a take off of someone else's idea. I love it! Giving credit where its due, I hope, and showing just how long I have been reading fanfictions here.  
  
A/n3: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews. this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 16: Parselmouth  
  
Snape stopped eating to watch Potter inhale his food. He had never seen anyone eat food that quickly, ever. He finished quickly, excused himself, and buried himself in a book on the sofa. Snape followed suit, except he sat in an armchair nearer the fire.  
  
Harry gasped as he read that he could have killed himself trying to help Snape. It was very disconcerting. He closed the book quickly, paling, then opened it again, realizing that he hadn't finished reading the paragraph.  
  
The effects are only temporary, fortunately. The drained wizard may experience a lack of appetite, extreme dizziness, nausea, insomnia, or exhaustion. The case varies with each wizard.  
  
"Oh good. I may live till I'm twenty." Harry muttered, color returning.  
  
"Is what ever your reading requiring you to make vocalizations? I did not think that any of my books did that. Let me see what you find so interesting." The professor sneered. Harry reluctantly handed over the book, as he had still not finished reading, but thought it best that he not anger his roommate.  
  
A few minutes later, "What is this gibberish? You better not be playing a joke on me, Potter . . ." He thrust it back into the boy's lap. "Read me this paragraph, three times." Snape snapped. Harry looked at him incredulously, but completed his task. Snape gaped at him.  
  
"You can read that?" He asked, suddenly interested, looking down at the squiggles and shapes, then back at Harry.  
  
"You can't?" Harry snapped back. "I thought anyone could read English. I have over estimated you, sir."  
  
Snape heard the remark, but let it pass. He managed to grate out, with forced control, "It's not English, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Oh, yeah, right. Then what pray tell is it, if it's not English?" Harry replied, voice full of sarcasm. His scar had started to hurt the second the book was taken away, and now it had progressed into the likeness of a jackhammer pounding, right down the center of his skull. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, to try to ease the pain. It didn't help much.  
  
"I do believe, Mr. Potter, that it is written in Parselmouth. Did you by any chance, get this from next to my quidditch books?" Snape snapped back, clearly becoming irked. He glanced at the boy again. His eyes were clenched shut and he was kneading his temple with a knuckle. "Potter? Come here."  
  
The boy grimaced, and slowly got off the sofa. When he was finally standing, he opened his eyes, and swayed slightly, and walked the one or two steps to get to the potions master.  
  
"Veileree giraniem" Professor Snape said calmly pointing his wand between Potter's eyes. Harry gasped as the pain simply left. He lowered himself to the floor, suddenly feeling weak. Whatever had just happened to him left him without energy and strength.  
  
"Are you okay Potter?" Snape asked as Harry's normally bright green eyes were clouded and dull looking. He nodded his head, but stayed where he was. "Get up, then." He commanded. Harry shook his head no, adamantly refusing to move. Snape sighed, wondering what Albus would say if he couldn't handle a 15 year old. "Fine then." He looked at Harry and with a simple swish and flick of his wand, he floated to the sofa, where the charm was removed.  
  
Harry looked mildly miffed, but smiled appreciatively. He knew that he couldn't have done that on his own. "Thank you, sir. I am feeling slightly drained at the moment." He sprawled out on the sofa, and fell asleep a few moments later.  
  
The professor stared as the boy slept peacefully, a million thoughts racing through his mind. For starters, why did he care that he had a migraine? How could someone write in a purely spoken language? What else did the book contain? Why wasn't he murdering the boy because he had insulted him? He would have at the very least cursed Albus if tried such a daft thing.  
  
That reminded him that he needed to talk to Albus about what happened at the Death Eater meeting. He took a last look at the boy, praying that the dungeons were still whole when he returned, and left to go to the headmaster's office.  
  
He arrived there about five minutes later. He muttered the password (ton-tongue-toffee) to the gargoyle and walked up the stairs. He smiled as he glanced behind him. He absolutely loved the way that charm made his cloak billow out behind him ominously, despite walking speed or lack of wind. He knocked on the door, waiting to be let in, rather impatiently.  
  
A few moments later, "Come in, Severus." Albus waved his hand at the door, and it opened. Snape strolled in and sat in a chair in front of the headmaster, expression hard, cold, and uncaring.  
  
"I wish to tell you what happened at my last meeting." He paused and waited for the headmaster's permission to continue.  
  
"Just a minute, I want to put this all down on parchment." He told a rather impassive professor. He dug around for some parchment and a quill, but not finding any, scrounged around on his desk for his lemon drops. When he found them, he transfigured one into a quill, one into a piece of parchment, and a third into ink. Then he took one for himself, and offered one to Severus.  
  
Severus glared at him, and Dumbledore smiled in reply. "Are the pleasantries finished now?" He snapped at him. Dumbledore nodded. "Just before they decided to torture me, Voldemort said he had some business to attend to at Privet Drive. He was gone for around two hours, and in that time Mr. Malfoy and Wormtail had free reign over what to with me. Their only stipulation was no killing." At this he shuddered slightly. "Which brings me to my next topic. Did you know that Potter could have killed himself trying to save me?" Snape narrowed his eyes in a way that could only be described as murderous, with a glint to match.  
  
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, choosing his words carefully. He chose another lemon drop to buy him some more time.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"The plan is in place. The ministry will blame Potter for their deaths. He had a motive. They tried to murder him, and he was seeking revenge. Their precious savior will be no more than his worthless godfather, Black, dangerous and disturbed. The doubt is already in place, thanks to Rita Skeeter. Lucius Malfoy will plant the seed about the abuse, and nurture it, making sure the minister knows how horrible it was and how badly he wanted to get even.  
  
Dumbledore will be notified that Potter is to be taken by ministry members, which will be Lucius and Macinar, to be questioned. He can't not let him go, for it would look as if he had something to hide. Then he will be delivered here, along with Snape, the tratior, for suspected treason charges. Yessss Nagini, everything will be perfect."  
  
Harry woke with a start, scar hurting something terribly, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what the dream, (for he knew it was the cause), was about. 


	17. A Long Night

A/n: To the reviewers -  
  
The Kuro no Tenshi - It hasn't even really started yet same one thing, so I don't know.  
  
Tiger Lily - Room 102? I thought that was a storage closet ^_^  
  
Saavik - Sorry, he takes the plan hook, line, and sinker. A plan is slow to be created, too.  
  
~*~ Dark Luna Angel ~*~ - Never can tell, can you?  
  
Erika - No, no pensive, spell, ect . . . Oh, and no, most parselmouths are not healers.  
  
Wink At J00 - Thank you for your high praise. Your stories are great, too!  
  
Sevrin - No, think older. Oh, the plan will work. How fun for me! Longer chapters? Maybe when school starts, to make up for my less frequent updates. School doesn't start till September 4th for me.  
  
Prophetess Of Hearts - I had a red-tailed boa that big once! Sorta fits it as a description, too. Okay the snake will be that way, with retractable wings. The name will be Mordecai.  
  
Legacy Lady - I wish I could! Hey, I can think of worse things to be addicted to.  
  
Zorra - No, well, yes, first, but they end up around six feet under in the end. Did you by any chance get that name from a legend of zelda game? I see a slight resemblance.  
  
A/n3: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews. this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 17: A Late Night  
  
"Well, Albus? It is a yes or no question." Snape sneered, leaning back in his chair, staring at the old man, who was clearly buying time by selecting a lemon drop.  
  
"I did indeed know that healing without a wand had adverse affects. I knew that it took energy to heal, and a want to heal the person. I also knew that it may make the healer pass out. Death is always an option at any inopportune time, as you should well know Severus." The headmaster shot his own glare toward the potions master, effectively making his sneer falter slightly.  
  
Severus shook his head slightly, an unreadable mask falling into place. He got up quickly, said good day, and left the office, wired. Somewhere from in the castle, a clock chimed eleven o'clock. Without a conscious thought, he ended up at his quarters, entered and went into his lab to make something. Anything just to calm him down, and making a potion always did the trick.  
  
About halfway through making the draught of living death, there came a soft knock at his lab door. Snape shrugged it off. If he were to stop stirring at this moment the whole thing would explode. A few minutes later a second knock came, and Snape was still stirring.  
  
"Albus, if you want to talk, I think it can wait until later when the potion I'm stirring won't explode. Have a good night." He called over his shoulder. There was a sigh and soft footfalls could be heard going across the room, where the sofa squeaked as if someone sat on it, the got back up. A few moments later there was yet another knock, and Snape who had just finished stirring, waved his hand for the door to come open.  
  
"Can't this wait until tomorrow, Albus? I am in no mood to compromise right now. Good night." Severus said, rather impatiently, tossing in some diced root of moonflower. He let it simmer a few moments, still not turning around, took a ladle full out and was about to take a sip of it when a monotone voice spoke up from behind him.  
  
"Don't drink that. You didn't add the beazor stone. You'll poison yourself." Snape dropped the ladle back into the caldron and turned around in amazement. Potter was standing beside him, watching him make the potion, not making a sound.  
  
"How did you know that, Potter? We most defenently did not cover that in class." He covered his shock with his usual jack-ass attitude.  
  
"I don't know." He replied in earnest. He looked up at the professor's icy stare. "Okay, I'm going now. Have a good, um, morning, sir." He turned to leave.  
  
"What time is it, Potter?" Harry froze in his tracks and turned around.  
  
"3:55, sir." He suddenly looked down at the floor.  
  
Snape's glare softened. "You've been up all night." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Harry nodded, silently staring at a burn mark on the floor. Snape took a stone off a shelf beside him and tossed it in the cauldron. The potion flashed bright white before turning a deep blue. He took out a small vile and filled it with the potion. "Here, Potter. Since neither of us are going to get any more sleep, help me bottle the stuff."  
  
Harry smiled weakly and started to fill, label, and put stuff away. "Thank you for not being mad and sending to me my room. I wouldn't have gone to sleep anyway." He paused, to put something on a too-high shelf. "Would you like to know why I'm awake?"  
  
"Will you shut up after you do?" He asked, but without the hint of sarcasm usually present. Harry nodded. "Well, come on, then. Let's go out into the front room. This may take some time. And, I'll do the rest of the bottling later." He didn't want to admit it, but he was interested in what the boy had to say, and tired.  
  
Snape sat in his armchair, and Harry laid on the sofa, finally getting tired. Snape closed his eyes, face blank, steepled his fingers in his lap, crossed his legs, and sighed in a world-weary way. Harry took no notice. "On a risk of sounding too much like Trelawney, I feel something bad is going to happen soon. I can't say what, beside that it had to do with Voldemort." He groaned in annoyance, "I can't remember. That was why I was up. Trying to figure out what I don't know." Harry finished his short tale quickly and looked at his professor, who merely nodded.  
  
There was a comfortable quiet for a little while, when Harry asked why Snape was expecting Dumbledore. Snape sighed slightly. "Although, I'm sure you and your eternally nosy ways will find out eventually, I won't tell you now." He unsteepled his hands and rubbed his temple with one hand then pinched the bridge of his nose. He waved his other hand vaguely toward the boy's bed room. "Go to bed, Potter. Leave me alone until breakfast."  
  
Snape got up and walked to his bedroom. He paused at the door to look at his favorite room in the entire castle. The room's furniture was done in a beautifully polished ebony. It had cost a small fortune, but he was glad he got it. The bed had an ornately carved headboard, with a mirror in the middle. On either side of the mirror there was small cabinets, which contained everything from muggle alcohol to the strongest magic truth potion anywhere. The bed had a crimson comforter with blue accents here and there. It had been made in Persia. The pillows were Champaign colored, and went well with the rug on the floor, which was navy blue and had a Champaign colored unicorn on it.  
  
On the right was another book shelf, covered in dark arts and potions books, along with the occasional trinket of interest. The bathroom was next to the bookshelf, and next to the bathroom was his wardrobe. He didn't even want to think about his wardrobe right now. Too many skeletons lurking inside it. His eyes wandered to the nightstand next to his bed, which contained scotch. He sighed again heavily. It had been years since he had touched the stuff. Someone once told him that it aged well.  
  
Stripping down to his boxers, he slid into his silken sheets, and reached for a glass in his headboard and for the scotch in his nightstand. He poured himself a glass of the amber liquid, and sipped it silently, cherishing how it tasted and the slight burn as it went down his throat. He closed his eyes in contentment. Of all things though, he cherished the silence the most. Whoever said that silence was golden, was either very wise or teacher, Snape decided.  
  
He finished the last half of his glass in one shot, making his eyes water. He closed the liquor bottle and put the empty cup on top of it upside down, and placed both on the night stand. He was right. It did age wonderfully.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry knew he had breached an unapproachable topic when he was sent to his room. He scampered there quickly, unwilling to compromise his health to find out the answer of his question. When he got in his room, he paced around a bit, pondering what to do now. He finally decided on simply trying to get some sleep, but life wouldn't allow it.  
  
As soon as he had gotten comfortable, there was a knock on the gargoyle outside of their quarters. He resisted the urge to go get it hoping that Snape would, as it was his quarters. A minute or so later, no one answered and he groggily got out of bed, so whoever it was didn't anger Snape before breakfast.  
  
Harry opened the door true to bachelor nature, scratching himself, and yawning. He gazed sleepily at the figure at the door. It took a few minutes for his mind to put together "Please come in, headmaster. Make yourself at home. But, be quiet please. Professor Snape is sleeping." He yawned again, and staggered to the sofa, and plopped down in an unsanctimonis fashion.  
  
Harry waved a hand at the fire place, making it light up. "Sorry, I'm half asleep. Can I get you anything? We are, after all two portraits down from the kitchen." Dumbledore chuckled quietly, and shook his head no. Harry waved his hand again, Snape's door closed, and the lights went brighter.  
  
"Getting better at that, are you?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Harry shook his head no.  
  
"The room is charmed to react to certain hand gestures. There are more, but I haven't seen Professor Snape do them yet, so, I have yet to copy them." Harry admitted, looking at the portrait of Isis.  
  
From in the bedroom there came the sound of a certain professor moving. "Potter, I told you not disturb me until breakfast came." Severus growled. There was a slight shuffling of cloaks and the professor stepped opened the door, looking rather disheveled. As soon as he realized that the headmaster was there, he straightened his robes, and came out into the open, looking mildly miffed.  
  
"To what do we owe this lovely surprise to?" Snape snapped as he sat down in the arm chair across from the one he usually sat in. The man was much too happy at this time of day. And happy morning people made Snape ruder than normal. At least Potter looked properly exhausted and scared of him.  
  
"My, my, not a morning person are we Severus?" Dumbledore replied, without missing a beat. His smile never faltered.  
  
"Well, I wouldn't really consider this morning. I haven't been asleep in around 38 hours. I have a right to be more than slightly rude." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Good god, Albus. Did you have to come at 5 am? Why not wait until after breakfast?" Snape frowned as he looked at how tired Harry looked. He obviously hadn't gotten much more sleep than himself, although he was fighting valiantly to appear awake. Come to think of it, he was fighting to do the same, as well.  
  
Dumbledore smiled again. "I had a feeling that you would be gone or unreachable after breakfast. I think I may have been wrong." He glanced at the two of them, both trying to stay awake long enough to hear him out. "Well, it seems I best make my stay short. I won't beat any more around the bush. I'm sorry to both of you about Harry's healing, and keeping the truth from both of you. I don't need to say any more, do I?" The resounding answer was no. Both had said it at the same time. "Well, good day then, Severus, Harry." He got up and left.  
  
Both Harry and Snape watched as the gargoyle closed back up again. Harry yawned loudly, and stretched. "Uggh. I hate morning people." Snape said as he stifled his own yawn. Harry nodded in agreement and looked at the clock. "Screw breakfast, maybe lunch. I'm going to bed." Harry said a few minutes later. It was Snape's turn to nod his head. They both headed off to their respective bedrooms. 


	18. Odd Occurances

A/n: to the reviewers  
  
Deanna - Really? I'm glad you like this story.  
  
Tiger Lily - Could have fooled me, but then again, that's fairly easy. How did you find out 103 was a kitchen? I suspected as much, cause all the food smells, but the men in the white coats said I was crazy. Who am I to argue with logic? Feel like raiding it sometime?  
  
PheonixDreamer - I'm glad!  
  
Dark Luna Angel - Morning people are most definently annoying, to say the least. I'm a morning person, and I still say that!  
  
Serpent Tongue - Next Chapter is Harry's b-day . . .  
  
Erika - No he wont. Yes, morning people are horrid.  
  
Lana Riddle - I wish you had, too. I enjoy looking at the user profiles. I generally r/r at least one story by each reviewer.  
  
Legacy Lady - I am soooo glad you love this.  
  
Wink At JOO - Me too! I love writing evil stuff. Wait for the next chapter. The fun begins . . .  
  
Prophetess Of Hearts -Yessireebob! They are put on earth purely to torment us.  
  
Sorry if I missed anyone who reviewed. I am too tired to go check my reviews again, and please tell me if I did. I will respond next chapter, then.  
  
A/n2: I am so sorry that has taken so long to put up. School stinks, majorly. Also, I have had to fix my modem, which didn't help matters either. Anyway, here it is.  
  
A/n3: this is my first true fic. I would appreciate any and all reviews. this is a response to severitus's challenge.  
  
disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling, never will. don't sue  
  
Chapter 18: Odd Occurrences  
  
The next day, when they had both had sufficient sleep, Snape had ordered a buffet for breakfast. Harry came out of his room dressed in the same clothes he had on the day he was saved. He looked for Snape, for he had been standing out of view, talking to a house elf about breakfast, not noticing Harry had arisen. Harry, who was amazingly hungry, dashed over to the far side of the table, and was about to take a piece of fruit, when he realized that he had better wait to be given permission, so he stood, waiting.  
  
Snape finished talking and strode over to the table, sat down and began eating. He didn't notice Harry, who was standing quietly, hoping to get invited to eat. The Dursleys always made him do that, so he thought it prudent. He watched Snape eat, his mouth drooling, and stomach growling, but not saying anything for fear of being called ungrateful and a moocher. So, after around 10 minutes of waiting and not getting noticed, he walked over to the sofa and sat down, thinking of going down to the house elves to get some breakfast, since Snape didn't seem to be sharing.  
  
In actuality, Snape had been watching the boy out of the corner of his eye for some time now and was wondering if Harry wasn't hungry, for he hadn't eaten anything. Assuming Harry would help himself if he was, he continued eating. The house elves had outdone themselves this time. Today there was a small buffet of all of his favorite fruits and cheeses. There were everything from apples to papayas and cheddar to gorgonzola. He glanced up from his mango to see Potter on the sofa, face unreadable, but stomach growling. He decided to question this.  
  
"Potter." He called.  
  
"Yes, sir?" He said cautiously.  
  
"Are you hungry?" He asked, although knowing the answer.  
  
"No, sir, I'm fine." He responded, as his stomach gave a mighty loud growl.  
  
"Too bad. Pomfrey told me to make you eat, so come here and eat." He said, wondering if he had to drag the boy over and forcibly stuff his face. Harry slowly got up, and walked over on wobbly legs. Once at the table, he sat quietly, only taking a small piece of cheese and nibbling it tentatively.  
  
Glancing at the boy, Serveus noticed that he was looking longingly at the watermelon. He wondered why he simply didn't take some.  
  
"Potter, you didn't eat much. Help me make a dent in this buffet. Help yourself to whatever." He commanded. As soon as he said that the boy gathered up a piece of nearly everything and ate it in about 50 seconds flat. Snape gaped openly. That boy could eat, but wouldn't touch the food until it was given to him. Interesting. He wondered if he would eat exactly what he was told, too.  
  
"Potter, finish off this kiwi." He commanded, amused as Harry ate the kiwi, skin and all. He shuddered, knowing he couldn't stomach the fuzzy skin of it.  
  
"Why did you eat the skin of all things? I only ment eat the flesh." Snape quipped without his usual sneer.  
  
"Because you told me to." He answered simply.  
  
"Because I told you to?" He repeated, skeptic. Harry nodded, looking at the floor with an embarrassed aire about him. "Was this something the Dursleys taught you to do?" Harry nodded again.  
  
"Complete servitude, sir. Eat what you are told and given, or don't eat at all. Always wait to be told to be seated, and don't take anything, either." He paused, reflecting on a memory of the summer when he hadn't eaten the rancid burger.  
  
"What are you thinking about, Potter?" He asked, thoroughly confused.  
  
"The time I didn't eat a hamburger given to me. Honestly, it wasn't fit for a dog to eat . . . it was blue and fuzzy . . . the smell was gut wrenching. I threw it out, but Uncle Vernon saw me. He made sure I was taught for that." He paused, touching his healed eye as if it was still sore. Snape stopped eating and watched as Potter got lost in some memory or another of one of his beatings.  
  
"It was awful . . . the beatings, I mean, wondering if I would live through them to the next day, but sometimes I hoped I wouldn't, just so the pain . . . just so the trouble I caused others . . . it could all end." His face was stony, but a tear fell unnoticed down the side of his cheek. "The same thing day after day . . . doing something or nothing at all . . . it didn't matter, it never pleased them. I never did. It was always this way . . ." He trailed off, staring at the floor blushing crimson. Another tear went unnoticed down his cheek. Somewhere along the confession, Snape had walked over behind him. When he had finished, he carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, making Harry jump and immediately apologize profusely.  
  
"Sorry sir. I didn't mean to bring this up over breakfast, but it just started to come out. Sorry." He got up quickly and stumbled to his room. Snape watched him leave, and went to his closet. Gathering some things that were too small for him, he followed after him.  
  
The rest of the day and next few weeks went by uneventfully, almost to the point of monotony. Harry started his summer lessons with Snape, who proved to be decent enough, even when he was forced to explain things. All and all, things were dull, boring, and unexciting. Even reading a book wrote in Parselmouth, that only himself and Voldemort could read, was loosing its excitement.  
  
Harry wished that summer would go faster now, but not as fast as it had. The first two weeks were action packed: he was almost beaten to death, Snape almost killed by Wormtail, Harry almost killing himself to save Snape, and them living together. He put the book he had been reading on the coffee table in front of him. It was the Parselmouth book, as he called it. He hadn't learned anything of use yet, but it was still interesting.  
  
"Potter, come in here. Do this potion with me. You know the routine." Snape called from his lab. It was true, he did know the routine. They would eat breakfast together in relative silence, only Snape telling Harry what the potion of the day was. Harry would have a half an hour after breakfast to do what he wished with, then his potions summer lesson would start. He was actually starting to enjoy it. In the last week, he had made around ten potions, each one getting more difficult than the last, and each was done with more ease than the last.  
  
Harry got up off the sofa and headed into Snape's lab. "Professor, sir? Can we go shopping for supplies today?" Harry had suddenly remembered that he had gotten his Hogwarts letter early this year, as he was already there. He wasn't a prefect. "This potion needs to simmer for 8 hours before we can touch it anyway. And, um, it may do us some good to get out of the castle." Harry asked as he gathered the ingredients. Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
  
"No, Potter, the world doesn't always revolve around you. You cannot go. I however am leaving later on today, and if you leave me a list of what you need, I will be willing to get them for you. Do stay out of the trouble that you so love to find." He sneered.  
  
"The world doesn't revolve around me. I will leave my list of things on the table for you. Unfortunately, it will be long due to my lack of all things wizard. I will also leave you a key to my vault, so you need not pay for my stuff. And just to set you straight, I don't go looking for trouble, it comes looking for me, and usually succeeds." Harry retorted, feeling slightly nervous, for what he did was only marginally safer than poking a sleeping dragon.  
  
"And of course, Potter, you do nothing to aid trouble in its search, do you?" Snape threw back at him. He watched with small satisfaction as the boy flinched slightly. "Shred the Pineapple and crush the coconut to a paste. When you are finished with that, slice up that mango finely." He stared coldly at the boy when he looked at him curiously, but did as he was told anyhow. Inwardly, Snape was laughing at the look of concentration being put into doing everything perfectly, for the potion he was having the boy make didn't care how the ingredients were prepared. "When you are finished, add them at the same time, then stir once every half hour. I am leaving now, so I trust you not to ruin the potion. Go get the list and the key."  
  
When the boy had returned and given him the requested items, he left without a second thought or look.  
  
Once he had apparated into Diagon Alley he was greeted by strange stares and hushed whispers. Many people moved from around him with increased speed, like one would from one who had the plague. He sneered at them, and proceeded to gather his supplies and Potters.  
  
Out of sheer curiosity, he also got a Daily Prophet, deciding to see what was up in the wizarding world. Then, thinking that lunch would be a good thing as well, he went to the Leaky Cauldron, and waited to be waited on. Taking out the paper, he noticed two things quickly. One was the fact that Harry Potter had made front page news, and the second was that he had also made second and third. Sneering, he read the article underneath a picture of number 4, which took up half the page.  
  
"The daily prophet has obtained exclusive information that the Dursleys, Harry Potter's caretakers, had in fact abused the boy before their untimely murder. The MLE has reason to believe that he has murdered his relatives as revenge and is disturbed and dangerous.  
  
Mr. Dursley was determined to have been thrown many steps and badly beaten before the crustacious curse had been cast on him. Mrs. Dursley was said to have been transfigured then decapitated after a severe beating, as well. Young Mr. Dursley was said to have been starved to death in a cupboard under the stairs and then branded with a lightening bolt scar on his head, and a pair of eyeglasses next to him."  
  
The next few paragraphs went into further detail of what happened to Harry and reiterated the fact that he was disturbed and dangerous. Snape skipped them, and read the last few lines of the first article that took up two pages.  
  
"Mr. Potter, however, is nowhere to be found, and the MLE expects him to be on the run and dangerous. Anyone with information about the relative's murder is asked to contact the MLE via owl."  
  
The second article was far more disturbing to Snape however, for he thought the death of the Dursleys a blessing, even if the Prophet thought that the boy did it. The second article read as follows:  
  
"Harry Potter, suspected murderer, is expected to be thoroughly questioned by the ministry tomorrow and thrown in Azkaban if convicted. Albus Dumbledore, eccentric headmaster of Hogwarts, is suspected of harboring the boy, and the infamous potions professor, Severus Snape is the reason for it. A neighbor reported seeing him enter the Dursley residence a few days before their murder. The professor is also expected to questioned for involvement in the Dursleys murder as well."  
  
Snape closed the paper with much more force than was necessary and left, without eating anything. He grabbed the parcels and disapparated back to the edge of the Hogwarts barrier. Once securely inside, he sent the packages into his quarters and ran for the headmaster's office, clutching the newspaper.  
  
Upon reaching it, he found that the door was already open, so he barged in waving the paper in front of him like a battle flag. Before he had sat down, he started spewing off accusations.  
  
"Albus, are you just going to let them do this?! I thought that you said that I would never have to go through that again. I thought that you said I had paid my dues to society by doing what I'm doing. I thought you said that things would be safer here? And what about the boy, he is far too susceptible to the dementors as it is. He wouldn't last a week in there. I can't believe th-"  
  
"Nice to see you too, Severus. Would you like a chocolate frog? I enjoy the cards inside, but I am missing Morgan. Here open one for me." He handed Snape a bouncy frog, which he sneered at then placed on the desk in front of him and banged his fist down on top of it, effectively opening the box, squishing the frog, and exposing the card. "Ah, well. I suppose not then. Sadly, I do know why you're here. The letter from the ministry came today. I can do nothing to prevent it. They threatened to expose you and relieve funding from the school. I must let them. I'm sorry, Severus. I truly am. I know that you two are innocent, but I cannot force anyone to believe me." He looked up at Severus' retreating form, and called after him, "They will be here tomorrow morning." He nodded almost imperceptibly. 


End file.
